


Where Loyalty Lies

by LovelyLessie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25004566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLessie/pseuds/LovelyLessie
Summary: When shipments from a mining station suddenly stop, Lotor's generals look into the reason and get more questions than answers. At the same station several days earlier, the Blade of Marmora encounters a surprise when they try to take out the operation. [Epilogue coming soon.]
Comments: 5
Kudos: 57





	1. Prologue

She knows something’s weird before she even touches down on the moon’s surface. Everything is totally quiet -  _ too _ quiet, even for a boring little mining op like this one. She’s pretty sure there should at least be  _ sentries _ out here, even if this place is too insignificant to be worth  _ real _ guards. 

“I’m in,” she says over her comm, leaning against the console as she surveys the site. “Something’s not right, though.” 

“Can you be a little more specific?” Acxa’s voice replies with a sigh. “If something wasn’t wrong, you wouldn’t  _ be  _ there.”

“I’m getting there!” Ezor says as she steps out of the shuttle, and cloaks herself before she approaches the building. “Don’t be so uptight.” 

“Just tell me what’s going on,” Acxa says. 

She hums, looking around as she heads for the doors. “For one thing, shouldn’t there be, I don’t know, guards, or something? This place is abandoned!” 

“There’s supposed to be a crew of eight,” Acxa confirms. “Five guards, two operators, and a commander. Most of the site is only patrolled by sentries, and all the machinery is operated remotely.” 

“That’s the other thing!” Ezor cuts in before she can keep talking. “This is a mining site, shouldn’t this machinery be  _ doing _ something? It’s totally shut down!” 

Satisfied that nothing’s approaching or watching the entrance, she darts up to the door and punches in the security code Acxa sent. 

“No sentries, either,” she adds as she steps inside, and then trips and nearly falls over something on the floor. “Oh, wait—“ 

It’s a disabled sentry - or, at least, half of one. Its legs have been detached, and after a quick glance around she spots them some ten paces down the corridor. That’s  _ definitely  _ suspicious. 

“Uh, guys,” she says, “it looks like this place got attacked.” 

“What happened?” Acxa demands. “What did you find?” 

“There’s sentries after all,” Ezor says. “This one is in pieces on the floor.” 

“Get to the command center,” Acxa says. “Find out what happened.” 

“I’m working on it!” she complains, glancing at the site map before heading down the corridor. “No need to be so  _ pushy.” _

Around the corner there’s another sentry with its head removed from its shoulders, crumpled in a heap where it stood when it was taken out. No sign of a firefight, even - whoever was here was quick and quiet about it. She jumps over its broken frame and keeps going, running to the lift at the end of the hallway that should lead up to the command center. 

“What I don’t get is what those rebels would want with  _ this _ place,” she says over her comm as the lift powers up. 

“Probably the same thing we want,” Acxa replies testily. “It’s the only source of vesperite in the whole sector.” 

“I know  _ that,”  _ Ezor scoffs, leaning against the wall of the lift. “But what would they even need vesperite for? I know  _ we _ have plans for it, but I don’t even know what the  _ empire _ does with it.” 

“It’s used as a coating for armor and ships that need to withstand—“ Acxa begins to explain. 

Ezor yawns loudly into her comm before Acxa can get too far into her little speech. “Who cares!” she says lightly, stepping out of the lift. “Anyways, if they wanted the vesperite, wouldn’t they still be running the equipment?” 

She looks around the command center, frowning, and crosses the room to the communications console at the far side. There’s no signs of struggle here, either, which she can’t help thinking doesn’t add up. Surely  _ someone _ should have been in here when the site was attacked, but the room is totally empty. Where are any of the actual  _ crew?  _

“So what exactly do you want me to be looking for?” she asks, pulling out her security override chip and fitting it into the console. 

“Check the logs first,” Acxa says. “See if there’s any mention of what happened.” 

“Okay, whatever you say,” Ezor says, rolling her eyes. “You’re the boss. I mean, Lotor is the  _ boss _ , but he says you’re coordinating the mission so —“ 

“Just tell me what’s there,” Acxa snaps. 

“You don’t need to yell about it,” she says. “I’m just saying, if it were  _ me, _ I wouldn’t be too worried about making a log entry when the base was under attack.” She pulls the log up anyways, skimming the last entry. “Preparing shipments for coordinates - oh, those are ours - yeah, the last entry is from four quintants ago and it says everything’s  _ fine.”  _

“See if there’s any video feed recorded on that date,” Acxa says. “Maybe we can confirm whether there  _ was _ an attack.” 

She frowns at the display, humming to herself as she looks through the menus for anything like security footage. “Are there even drones here?” she wonders out loud. “I haven’t seen any, working or not. Would they even need security feeds for a mining operation this…well, pretty much inconsequential?” 

“Every operation has an important purpose to the imperial machine,” Acxa says. 

Ezor groans. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Oh, here it is—“ 

She opens a list of recordings and skims them for the stardate of the last log entry before pulling one open. It’s a video of the mining equipment outside, monitoring its operation.  _ Boring.  _ She flips to the next, but it’s just another view of the same. 

“These are useless,” she complains, skipping to the third and fourth and finding only more angles of the same machinery. 

“You’ve only looked at them for thirty ticks,” Acxa says. “Look through them a little bit.” 

“Ugh, fine.” She skips to the next video and discovers it’s the same feed as the first, one quintant later and the only thing that seems to have changed at all is that the equipment isn’t operating. “Oh, no, that’s too far - huh, there isn’t any footage inside the building.”

“Why would there be?” Acxa asks impatiently. “There are only four rooms, aside from personal quarters.” 

“Which one do you think is the most important?” Ezor asks as she returns to the right date and starts skimming through the video at high speed. “That’s probably where they all went, since there’s no one dead in here.” 

“You can search the building after you check those video feeds,” Acxa says. “This is important. If someone attacked this base, we need to know who it was.” 

“What part of finding the site abandoned with the sentries in pieces makes that so unbelievable?” Ezor asks. “Seems pretty obvious to me. Just because I haven’t  _ found _ the bodies of the crew yet - whoa, what was that?” 

She breaks off, surprised, as a flicker of something bright on the feed catches her eye, and skips back to watch it again at the ordinary speed. A flash of light comes from somewhere under the machinery, followed by a plume of smoke as the camera shakes, and the equipment grinds and shudders to a halt. 

“Oh,” she says, disappointed. “The equipment broke down, that’s all.” 

“Did it break down?” Acxa presses. “Or was it sabotaged?” 

Ezor shrugs, and then remembers she’s both cloaked, and talking to Acxa on the comm. “How should I know?” she asks as she skims the rest of the video. “It  _ could _ have been sabotaged. I just saw it blow up.” 

“Check the other feeds,” Acxa says. “Maybe one of them shows more.” 

“I’m working on it,” Ezor sighs, jumping ahead in the second feed and starting the playback a few ticks before the time of the explosion.

Nothing happens. 

“That’s weird,” she says, frowning, and keeps watching. For thirty ticks, then sixty, nothing changes except a slight stutter and a crackle of static on the recording, before the machinery abruptly freezes. 

“ _ Ezor!”  _ Acxa shouts, and she realizes belatedly that she’s been so focused on the recording she hadn’t heard her name being called. 

“Sorry!” she says. “What was the question?” 

“What are you  _ seeing?”  _ Acxa demands. 

“I think someone altered the feed,” she says. “Nothing happened when the explosion should have been, and then the machinery just suddenly stopped. They must have repeated the signal or something.” 

“Hmm,” Acxa muses. 

“If you don’t  _ believe _ me, I can copy the feed and you can watch it yourself,” Ezor says, folding her arms. 

“Don’t bother,” she replies. “Go search the rest of the base. See if you can find out what happened to the guards.” 

“Got it,” Ezor says, relieved to be done with these videos, and pulls her override chip out of the console. “Any clue where I should start?” 

“Check the control room,” Acxa tells her. “If something went wrong with the equipment, they must have looked there.” 

She hops into the lift and heads back down to the entry level, checking the map as it descends so she knows where she’s going. There are two more busted-up sentries on the way to the control room, but still no trace of anyone who was  _ alive _ at any point, and to be honest, she’s starting to get a little creeped out by the whole place. 

It’s almost a  _ relief _ when she gets to the door and finds signs of a struggle - a few laser shots scorched into the walls down the corridor, scratch marks on the floor that could be from claws or from a weapon. Of course, there’s no  _ body _ as evidence that someone got the upper hand, but the attacker could have fallen back, or the fight moved to a better stage. 

“Someone  _ was _ guarding this place,” she tells Acxa over the comm. “No sign of what happened to them, though.”

“That’s something,” Acxa says. “Keep looking.”

But however the fight ended up, it wasn’t in the control room; when Ezor looks inside it’s just as empty as the command center. “Nothing here,” she announces, frowning. 

Acxa sighs. “Go check processing and the docking bay. I want to know what happened to the guards before you leave.”

“At least that we agree on,” Ezor says lightly, and laughs as she darts back out into the corridor. 

The equipment in the processing chamber is badly damaged, panels ripped off of machinery and the insides slashed and torn out, but there’s no one in the room, dead or alive; the shuttle bay is just as empty, just rows of containers waiting to be loaded up with refined vesperite and three empty shuttles for transport. 

“This is seriously starting to creep me out,” she says as she heads back into the corridor from the dock. “It’s like no one was ever even here.”

“Eight people were stationed there,” Acxa says, again. “There must be remains  _ somewhere.” _

“Maybe out in the mine?” Ezor suggests. “I mean, if someone blew up the equipment, probably  _ one _ of the crew members went to check it out, right?”

“That’s a good point,” Acxa agrees. “Go take a look.”

“Wait,” says Lotor’s voice suddenly, and she freezes mid-stride to listen. “Before you go, I’d like you to examine the crew quarters.”

“The quarters?” she echoes, frowning. “But - even those Galra rebels wouldn’t just kill a bunch of mining operators in their beds… would they?”

Lotor chuckles. “No, I don’t imagine they would. Just take a look, and tell me if anything seems unusual.”

“Um, okay,” she says, but his reassurance doesn’t really make her feel any better.

She takes the lift down once more to the crew quarters, looking around the vacant hallway as she walks to the first door and opens it. The room is sparse, the unmade bed and scattered wrappers of a few ration packs the only evidence that anyone ever lived here. Otherwise it’s not too weird, though, so she ducks out to check the next one down the corridor. 

“There’s, like, nothing in any of these rooms,” she announces after checking the fourth, before she turns to come back up the hall and look at the other side. “I know the fleet has regulations, and all, but would it kill these guys to personalize a little?” She pauses at the door across the hall, considering what she just said. “I mean, I guess someone probably already did kill them, but--”

“Have you examined all of them?” Lotor asks. 

“Just half,” she says, and pokes her head into the next. “Same here, though! At least this one made their bed before they left, it’s like no one’s ever even  _ been _ in here.”

“Keep looking,” he orders. “And try to minimize the  _ chatter, _ Ezor, if you must talk to  _ yourself _ you can turn off your communicator.”

“Sorry, sir,” she says. “Just trying to keep you in the loop.”

The remaining three rooms aren’t much different, barren of any identifying features, some garbage or displaced furniture the only evidence anyone used to live in them. 

“Okay, I checked all of them,” she says with a sigh, leaning against the wall outside the lift. “What now?”

“What did you find?” Lotor asks. 

“Uh,  _ nothing,” _ she replies, and rolls her eyes. “Like I told you - some clothes left behind in a couple, some trash and empty ration packs in some. Otherwise they’re totally clean!”

“No weapons left behind?” he presses, his voice calm and level. “No identifying belongings?”

“Nope,” she says. “Just a whole bunch of empty rooms.” 

“As I suspected,” he says. “Come back to the ship, there’s nothing else of use there.”

“What?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. “But we don’t even know what happened to the guards! I was going to go check in the mine--”

He sighs wearily. “There’s no need for that, you won’t find them there.”

“Huh?” She usually assumes Lotor knows what he’s doing, but something doesn’t make sense here. “But if there was an attack, there have to be bodies  _ somewhere…” _

“Naturally,” he says, an edge of impatience creeping into his voice. “But I don’t believe there was any attack. Come, Ezor, get back to the ship, we can discuss it further upon your return.”

“But...then…” she protests as she heads into the lift, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. “Where  _ is _ everyone?”

“The crew of this site were relocated, not killed,” he says. “And I’m quite sure my father's witch is behind it.”


	2. Chapter 2

“The guards have left the main site,” Therlok announces, rising from a crouch at the edge of the cliff and beckoning the others to follow. “Three biosignatures remain inside. Let us move now.” 

Kolivan nods his approval, and Therlok leaps back off the ledge to rappel down towards the building below them. Keith runs ahead of the others to follow suit, taking the jump headfirst as he readies his piton gun. For a moment he’s in freefall, upside-down in midair, the cliffside rushing past his eyes in a blur, and then he kicks his feet back and turns over, firing a shot at the rock face and watching the electric arc of the grapple beam connect. As he swings in towards the sheer stone, he glances up to see Kolivan and Dazvar dropping towards the ground above him; he braces himself, knees bent to take the impact, and pushes off the cliff to continue his descent. 

He’s the first one to the bottom, landing on his toes and springing up at once to run towards the building. “Keith, head for the control room when you get inside,” Kolivan says over the comm. “Therlok, you’ll handle processing. Dazvar and I will take the command center and get our intel.” 

“You got it,” Keith agrees, sprinting up the stairs towards the door. “Therlok, where are those biosignatures?” 

“Two on the lower level,” Therlok replies. “One is currently on the move. One on the main level.” 

Only one he might run into, Keith thinks. Good. He pulls out his blade as he reaches the entrance and wedges it between the door and the frame, breaking the seal and leveraging it open just enough to slip through. The others will probably have to force it open farther, but every once in a while, his slight size by comparison comes in handy after all. 

No sooner does he lift his head than he sees a sentry raising its blaster, and he whips his blade across the corridor to cut into its side. It collapses before it even has a chance to take a shot, the weapon falling from its hands as it loses power, and its torso separates from its legs as he yanks the blade free. So far, so good. 

He pulls up the site map from his wrist device and turns down the corridor, keeping to his toes to muffle his footsteps as he runs towards the control room. It’s a two part mission, intel and sabotage, and he has the easy job this time - get into the controls and do whatever he can to break them. 

As he turns down the next corridor, he hears footsteps and freezes, pressing himself against the wall. There’s nowhere to hide, but Galra soldiers carry firearms, not knives, and if a guard comes around the corner at the other end, he wants to be a tough target to hit. 

A moment later, the guard appears, heading for the door at a run. They don’t seem to notice him until he’s already moving. At the sound of his footsteps the guard looks up and yells, raising their blaster to fire a few clumsy shots. He darts between the blasts easily and ducks down to rush past the guard and get behind them. 

“Help!” the soldier shouts as he grabs them by the shoulders. “Varok! Argh —“ 

“Shut up,” Keith growls, his blade humming in his hand as it extends. 

The guard whimpers and leans away from the curved arc of the blade now pressed close to their throat, and it throws them off balance enough for Keith to wrestle them down into a chokehold. For a moment they struggle, feet scrabbling against the metal floor as they try to break free, claws digging into his arms in a desperate bid to pull him off, but gradually their grip weakens and they drop limply to the floor, unconscious. 

“I’m in,” he says into his comm as he opens the door, and steps into the control room. “Took down one of the guards on the way in, so I think I’m in the clear.” 

“Good,” Kolivan says. “Check in if you encounter any trouble.” 

Keith moves to sheath his blade as he approaches the main console, but movement catches his eye and he freezes, his grip on the handle tightening. A long moment passes and nothing stirs, though, and he thinks he must have imagined it in the dim light.

He takes a step forward, only to see a small dark shape dart out from under the console and behind the equipment in the back of the room. “Whoa!” he yelps, stumbling backwards, and raises his blade again, but whatever is in here with him has disappeared into the shadows between machines. 

“Keith,” Kolivan says. “Is something wrong?” 

“I think something’s in here with me,” he says. “I saw it move.” 

“What exactly did you  _ see?”  _ Kolivan presses. 

“I don’t know,” Keith says, a little annoyed. “It moves pretty fast. I don’t think it’s Galra, it was too small, maybe some kind of animal…” 

“Negative,” Therlok says flatly. “All biosignatures in the building were Galra in origin.” 

Keith frowns, creeping closer to the machinery. “I’m gonna get a better look,” he says quietly. The reddish-purple glow of the light banks doesn’t illuminate much as it is, at least not to his half-human eyesight, but it’s nearly pitch dark in between the equipment back here, and he squints into the shadows. 

As he approaches, something flashes, and he sees a pair of yellow eyes in the dark, reflected light glaring back at him. The creature hiding at the back of the room growls. 

It’s much smaller than any Galra soldier he’s ever seen, a dim silhouette crouched low to the ground, but as his eyes adjust he can make out pointed ears and a humanoid figure. “What…” he begins to say to himself, and trails off as it slowly dawns on him what he’s seeing. 

“Keith, status update,” Kolivan orders tersely. 

He swallows hard, staring at the eyes looking back at him out of the dark. “I think,” he says, his voice shaking a little, “it’s a kid.” 


	3. Chapter 3

There’s a long moment of silence before Kolivan says, slowly, “It’s a  _ what?” _

“A - a child,” he says. “Or, um, a kitten? A - like, a little Galra, I don’t know what—“ 

“I know what a kid is,” Kolivan says, cutting him off. “What is it  _ doing _ here?” 

“Uh, right now, hiding from me,” Keith replies, taking a few steps back. “It’s back behind the machinery, I don’t think I can get in there.” 

“Proceed with your mission,” Kolivan instructs him. “We will retrieve the child before we go.” 

Keith frowns, chewing on his lower lip. “Is… are they gonna be okay back there while I’m messing around with the controls? I don’t want them to get hurt.”

Silence. He looks at the console, and then back at the gap between the machinery, angling his head until he sees the glint of yellow in the child’s eyes. They haven’t moved, still curled up tight in the narrow space, and he’s suddenly reminded of himself as a child, hiding from sitters in the back of the closet or behind the washer in the cellar. 

“I’m gonna try to get them out of there,” he says. “If I can’t fit, none of you are going to, so we’re gonna have to convince them somehow, right?” 

“A sound argument,” Kolivan agrees. “We will join you shortly to assist.” 

“Don’t get bitten,” Dazvar says quietly, and chuckles. “Kits have sharp teeth.” 

Keith laughs at that and switches his comm off, demasking as he approaches the child again. “Hey,” he says softly, and drops into a crouch. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you.” 

The kit growls again, eyes narrowing. 

“Can you talk?” Keith asks. “How old are you?” Not that it would mean much to him, really, since he has only a vague concept of how the empire measures time, and no idea how early Galra learn to speak, but it seems like the sort of thing to ask a strange child. 

They hiss in response, and he can make out enough to see the way their teeth bare and their ears twitch back. 

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath to steady himself.  _ Patience. _ “Guess not. That’s...fine.” 

He sits down and unstraps the sheath of his knife, setting it aside. The best thing he can think of to help coax the kit out of hiding is to be less threatening, so he’d better at least put down his weapon. It doesn’t seem to make any difference to them, but anything’s worth trying. 

“I’m Keith,” he says when he can’t think of anything else to say. “Do you have a name? Uh - wait, I guess you don’t talk - or you’re not right now, anyways. I get that, I don’t like to talk to strangers either.” 

He frowns, looking down at his open hands. The kit has stopped growling and is watching him silently from the back of the room, which he thinks might be progress. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I’m not really that great at conversation. Um, I’m…” 

_ A Paladin, _ he means to say, and then second guesses himself. Most people they’ve met across the galaxy are reassured by that, but this kid’s family is part of the empire; anything they’ve heard about Voltron probably sounds more like a threat than a consolation. A member of the Blade of Marmora probably isn’t any better, either - if that even  _ means _ anything to anyone outside of the group. 

“I’m from a really, really far away planet,” he says instead. “Called Earth. But my mom was Galra, so maybe we’re not that different, right? Except you grew up with other Galra…” 

It occurs to him, suddenly, that the guard who was running up to the control room in such a hurry they didn’t even notice him might have been looking for the kit, and then,  _ there was another biosignature on the lower level. _ His heart drops so fast it makes his stomach lurch. 

“Hey, Therlok,” he says, switching his comm back on. “Did you run into that other guard?”

It’s a brief moment before Therlok replies, “Negative. No interference. Likely in the docking bay.”

Keith breathes a sigh of relief. “Okay,” he says. “Thanks.”

“What is your status?” Kolivan asks. “Have you retrieved the kit?”

“No, they’re still back there.” He looks over and hears them growling softly again, ears flattened against the sides of their head. “I think they don’t like too many voices. I’m going to switch my comm off again.”

“Let us know when you’ve extracted them,” Kolivan says. 

“Will do,” he agrees, and turns off his comm. “Sorry about that,” he tells the kit softly. “I wanted to make sure your family’s okay, that’s all.”

Slowly their growl trails off into silence again. 

“Don’t worry, I understand,” he adds. “I’m not a big fan of too many people talking, either. And our voices sound pretty weird with the masks on, huh? That’s probably kind of scary.” 

The kit still doesn’t move, and he sighs, his breath rumbling in his chest.  _ Patience, _ he reminds himself again, purring quietly to try and soothe the tension in his shoulders. He doesn’t usually do it around anyone else, but the sound is comforting, and he figures a Galra kitten isn’t going to judge him. 

“They’re probably gonna be coming here pretty soon,” he says. “Don’t be too scared of them, okay? They’re my friends, they won’t hurt you…”

He trails off, staring, as the kit slowly uncurls and creeps a few steps closer. 

“Hey,” he says, giving them a small smile. “You wanna come say hi?” 

They draw back slightly, and then, in a tiny voice, reply, “Hi?” 

“Hi,” he says. “Uh, I mean - hello. Greetings? I guess I don’t know what Galra say to greet each other.” 

The kit angles their head, ears twitching. 

“Do you want to sit out here?” he asks. “I can, um, move farther away, if that would make you feel better.” 

“Maybe,” they say. 

“Okay,” he agrees. “I’m gonna get up and move back, and you can come sit right here.” 

Very carefully, he climbs to his feet and takes a few steps away towards the console before crouching back down on the floor, and the child finally emerges from behind the machinery. 

She can’t be more than five, or the Galra equivalent, anyways - a skinny little thing with wide eyes and round cheeks, the corners of her mouth drawn down in a pout. For a long moment they both survey each other, silent except for Keith still purring under his breath. 

“I’m Vrani,” she says finally. 

Keith grins. “Hi, Vrani,” he says. “I’m Keith.” 

“Keith,” she repeats, and smiles back, all sharp teeth. “You look funny. Where’s your ears?” 

“Right here,” he tells her, pushing his hair up so she can see. “The people from my planet don’t have big pointed ears like Galra do.” 

She frowns, considering that. “But, you’re Galra?” she asks, tilting her head, one ear perked up. 

“Only half,” he says. “My dad’s from Earth. I grew up with other humans, so I don’t know much about the Galra, actually.” 

Vrani comes a little closer and stops three feet away, dropping into a crouch. “You look like them?” she asks. “Humans?” 

“More or less,” he agrees. 

She wrinkles her nose. “Wow,” she says. “That’s really sad.” 

Keith frowns, pretty sure he’s being insulted. “Well, people on Earth don’t know about any other races,” he tells her. “They would have thought I was pretty funny looking if I looked like a Galra.” 

“Hmm,” she muses. “I guess you’re right.” 

“And just because I look human, doesn’t mean I’m not like you in some ways,” he says. 

She giggles, and the sound startles him; there’s a low rumble to it when some of the Blades laugh, like Dazvar, but he’s never heard anyone  _ trill _ like that. “Like how?” she presses. 

“Uh,” he says. “I… I can see in the dark, humans can’t really do that, I guess. And, um, I have sharp teeth, too, that’s because I’m Galra.” 

“Show me,” she says. 

“What?” he asks, blinking. “Uh, okay.” He bares his teeth for her to show off his oversized canines, and to his surprise she jumps up and runs over to him. “Whoa, hey!” he yelps, but before he can move to stop her she grabs the sides of his face with both hands to peer into his mouth curiously, her claws digging into his cheeks. 

“I  _ guess _ so,” she says. “Mine are sharper, though.” 

Keith removes her fingers from his mouth, glowering. “Don’t do that,” he tells her. “Didn’t your parents teach you any manners?” He can taste iron on his tongue; he must be bleeding where her nails scratched the inside of his mouth. 

“I - I just wanted to see better!” she says, her eyes wide. 

“You shouldn’t grab people without asking,” he says, grimacing. “That  _ hurt _ , and I don’t like being touched.” 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, shrinking into herself and pulling her hands back out of his grasp. 

“It’s fine,” he says, shaking his head, and manages a slight smile, though it stings a little. “You just caught me off guard. You were so scared at first, and then you ran up in my face.” 

“You were purring,” she says, looking up at him. “The soldiers wouldn’t do that, only people who are nice.” 

“Oh,” he says, and realizes he’s stopped in the time since they’ve started talking. “Are the soldiers… not nice to you?” 

She shrugs. “I’m not allowed to talk to them. They’re scary. Avka and Atka say they’ll be mad if they see me.” 

He sighs, trying to focus his breath in his chest. It’s a lot harder to do it on  _ purpose,  _ but now that she’s out in the light he sees the way she relaxes at once when he starts to purr again. 

“Do humans do that?” she asks after a moment, reaching towards his chest tentatively before stopping. 

“I… don’t think so,” he says. “I’m pretty sure it’s just me.” 

“No,” she says, “all  _ Galra _ can do it, see?” She closes her eyes and he hears a faint thrum in her chest as she breathes. 

He smiles. “Yeah, I guess so,” he agrees, and takes her outstretched hand, letting her rest her palm against his breastbone. 


	4. Chapter 4

It occurs to him after a moment that he’s not sure how long he’s been sitting here trying to coax her out, but the guards  _ must _ be on the way back by now, and they’re going to be out of time pretty soon. He’d better call the others and tell them he’s got the kit, not to mention see what’s taking  _ them _ so long.

“I’m gonna call my friends and see what they’re doing, okay?” he says. 

“Okay,” she agrees. 

He switches his comm on again, listening briefly to see if the others are speaking before he does. “Kolivan,” he says, “I’ve got her. Are you on your way down? What’s taking so long?” 

“We are outside the room,” Kolivan says. “We should leave, before the guards return. Bring the kit with you and let’s go.” 

“Uh, wait,” Keith says, frowning. “I thought you were going to help me.” 

“Our presence would only have your job more difficult,” Kolivan says. “You had the better chance alone, being little more than a kit yourself.” 

“But what about —“ he protests, and then looks at Vrani. “Uh, hang on.” He turns his comm off again so Kolivan won’t interrupt and takes her hands carefully in his. “Hey, Vrani, if I go talk to my friends out in the hall, will you stay right here?” 

“Hm…” she says thoughtfully. “I guess so.” 

“Thanks,” he says. “I appreciate it.” 

He gets to his feet and heads for the door, glancing back over his shoulder to see her sitting on the floor, her eyes wide as she watches him leave. 

Kolivan is waiting in the hall, with Dazvar and Therlok behind him, and he steps forward as the door closes, his arms folded. “Where is the child?” he demands. “You said you had recovered her.” 

“She’s in there,” Keith says. “I can get her in a minute, but what about sabotaging the controls?” 

“We are out of time,” Kolivan snaps. “What we have accomplished already will have to be enough, the guards are returning. Go, get the kit and head for the extraction point.” 

“What about her family?” Keith argues, frowning. “We have to find them.” 

“That will only make it more difficult to remove her,” Kolivan says. “Quickly, Keith, before we lose the opportunity.” 

He doesn’t move. It feels like his feet are rooted to the floor. “Are…” he begins, and his voice sticks in his throat. He swallows. “Are you saying you want to take her  _ alone?”  _

“Of course,” Kolivan replies calmly, as if this should have been evident. “The kit is young, she can still be raised without the Empire’s influence. The parents have already been indoctrinated.” 

Keith stares, still frozen. “But…” he manages in a whisper. “That’s her  _ family.”  _

“Which is why they will not let her go,” Kolivan says. “But we cannot lose the chance to raise a child outside of the Empire. Bring her, and let us  _ leave.”  _

“No,” he says. “That’s not happening.” 

“What alternative do you suggest?” Kolivan demands, a growl creeping into his voice. “Would you leave the child to be raised in the violence of the Empire, knowing she will one day become our enemy?” 

“We can take her parents  _ with _ us!” Keith snaps back. “If you don’t trust them, fine, we take them as prisoners, but we’re not taking her away from them.”

“The Blade of Marmora cannot take prisoners,” Kolivan tells him. “The risk is too great. You  _ must _ understand this.” 

“Then we take them to Olkarion, or to the rebel cells!” he shouts. “There must be  _ someone _ in the coalition who can keep them under watch—“ 

“The mantra of the Galra Empire is victory or death,” Kolivan says. “You know this. We  _ must _ leave, before the guards arrive, with the kit or without.” 

Keith glances at the door behind him, and then at the guard unconscious on the ground, and a thought occurs to him suddenly that might just make a difference. “They’re already keeping the kid a secret from the empire,” he says. “Who’s to say they won’t go farther?” 

Kolivan narrows his eyes, but his ears twitch forward, alert. “How do you know this?” he asks. 

“She told me so,” Keith says. “She’s been told not to let the soldiers see her.” 

For a moment Kolivan surveys him, his expression unreadable, and then growls deep in the back of his throat. “Do you intend to rehabilitate these imperial citizens  _ yourself _ ?” he asks. Before Keith can answer, he says, “Stay. Watch the child. Dazvar, capture the one remaining in the building. Therlok, I need you with me if we are to incapacitate the whole of the crew.” 

“I can help, too,” Keith says. “Shouldn’t she be fine in there?” 

“I told you to stay,” Kolivan repeats. ”How many of my orders do you intend to dismiss?” 

“I don’t know what to do with her,” Keith protests. “I just got her out, I don’t know how to - how to  _ act _ around her.” 

“You have misplaced your head if you think any of  _ us _ know better how to manage a kit,” Dazvar says with a rumbling laugh. “A child cannot suckle from a weapon.” 

“At least you’re -“ Keith begins to say, and hears his voice shake.  _ Shit.  _ “You were all...raised as Galra.” 

Kolivan takes a step towards him, and he flinches, sure he’s about to be scolded, but instead he feels a hand fall heavily on his shoulder. “She has already put some trust in you, to speak to you so openly,” Kolivan says, his voice suddenly very quiet. “This is not a responsibility to be taken lightly.” 

“Oh,” Keith says, unsure how he’s supposed to take this.

“Even if the parents can be re-educated,” Kolivan continues, “the kit will need guidance from those who have not undergone the Empire’s conditioning. It is a task too great for any one of us alone, but you must  _ not _ neglect it.” 

He swallows hard. “Okay,” he agrees. “I’ll keep an eye on her.” 

“Leave your comm open,” Kolivan orders. “If we need further assistance, we will call.” 

Keith nods solemnly, and watches the others march down the hall and disappear around the corner before he turns himself and heads back into the control room. 

Vrani sits up suddenly as the door opens, lifting her head. “Oh,” she says when she sees him come in, and flops down on the floor again. “It’s just you.” 

“Sorry to disappoint you,” he says, shrugging. 

“I thought your friends were coming,” she says. “Are they nice like you?” 

“Uh,” he says, sitting down across from her again. “Not… really, no. They’re good people, I think, but I wouldn’t say they’re  _ nice.”  _

Of course, how Vrani feels about  _ good _ and how the Blades do is probably a lot different, but he’s not sure she’s old enough to understand that even if he could explain. 

“Hey,” he says after a moment, “have you grown up here your whole life?” 

“Yep!” she says, nodding. 

“You ever wanted to go anywhere else?” Keith asks. “Up in space?” 

She angles her head. “Hm… like to the planet?”

“Or even farther than that,” he says. “Wherever.” 

“There’s soldiers all the  _ time _ at the planet base, though,” Vrani says. 

He laughs at that. “Yeah, I guess so. How about if you could go somewhere without any soldiers, though?”

She narrows her eyes, frowning at him. “Without  _ any _ soldiers? Ever?”

“Uh, well, I guess my friends are kind of soldiers, too,” he admits. “But none you’d have to hide from.” 

The look on her face is skeptical at best, but she hums thoughtfully, studying the floor. “Just me and my family and your friends?” she asks. “And the people on the planet would leave us alone?”

It makes something ache in his chest that she doesn’t believe him, not as much with sympathy as with  _ recognition. _ “Yeah,” he agrees. “It’ll probably be somewhere secret, where they couldn’t even find you if they came looking.” He doesn’t know anything about where they’ll take Vrani and her family, but it seems like a safe guess it’ll be somewhere well-hidden and hard to get into - or out of. 

“That would be fun,” she decides, and smiles. “Avka would like that. She hates the soldiers.”

That’s something, at least, he thinks, and purrs as he exhales slowly. 

Behind him, the door opens.  “Hey, what are you--” he begins to say, turning over his shoulder, but it’s not one of the Blades who comes in - it’s the guard from before, their blaster raised.


	5. Chapter 5

Keith is on his feet instantly, reaching for his knife. It’s not until his hand grasps empty air that he realizes it’s still on the ground. “Move away!” the guard shouts, priming the blaster. “Don’t touch her!”

“I’m not,” he says quickly, raising both hands. “I’m not here to hurt her, I swear.”

“Avka?” Vrani calls, her voice high-pitched, and Keith glances back to see her hiding between the equipment banks again, her eyes wide as she stares at them both. 

“Vrani!” the guard says, lowering the blaster, and runs over to her, dropping to their knees on the floor. “Did this rebel hurt you?”

“No, Avka, he’s not a bad guy,” she says, creeping out to join them. “He’s my new friend. His name’s Keith.”

The guard pulls her helmet off and turns to look at him, her eyes narrowed. “Keith,” she repeats. “You aren’t with the rebels? Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“We’re, I’m, um,” he manages, taking a step back. “Actually, I guess we…are. I swear, though, we’re not here to hurt anyone, especially not your daughter.”

“See,” Vrani says. 

“Hush,” the guard - her mother, he thinks - tells her sharply. 

“I’ll explain as much as I can,” Keith says, trying to keep his voice level, “but maybe we should talk in the hall.”

The guard considers this, glances at Vrani and then at his knife on the floor. “Only if you leave your weapon,” she says finally. 

“If you leave yours,” he agrees. 

She scoops up both the blaster and the knife in one fluid motion and lays them down on top of the console. “Don’t touch, Vrani,” she says firmly. “Stay here.”

“Yes, Avka,” she says sullenly, hunching her shoulders as she sits down on the floor. 

“You, first,” the guard says, jerking her head towards the door, and Keith nods, turning to leave the room.

“I’m sorry about before,” he says when the door closes behind her. “Most guards at imperial bases aren’t exactly willing to talk things through.”

“Most guards do not have small kits to be concerned with,” the guard replies. “Who  _ are _ you?”

“I’m part of the Blade of Marmora,” he says. “We  _ are _ part of the rebellion, but we’re here to disable the mining operation, not hurt anyone. We didn’t know there was a kit here.”

“No one does,” she replies. “Only the crew on base. She would be taken to a real colony if command discovered her.”

“So you kept her a secret so they wouldn’t take her from you?” Keith says. 

“And I will kill every one of you myself if you try to do the same,” she hisses. 

“You won’t have to,” he says quickly. “We’re not going to take her away from you.”

She narrows her eyes at him, the tips of her ears twitching back. “Is it not true that your organization builds its ranks from children captured by its agents?”

Keith swallows. He has no idea if that’s true or not, and suspects it might be given Kolivan’s first response to finding Vrani, but he’s not about to tell her mother that. “You and your family are going to come with us,” he says levelly. “I can’t speak for my colleagues, but I’d rather it be willingly.”

“It does not sound like you will give us a choice,” she says. “How many are you?”

“Four,” he says. 

“There are five guards at this station,” she says. “And three operations staff. You are outnumbered two to one.”

“No offense,” he sighs, “but I’m not worried about those odds.”

The guard considers this in cold silence for a moment, before announcing, “Izan.”

“Uh, sorry?” he asks, blinking. “That didn’t - I, um, I don’t speak Galran, the translator…”

She laughs. “It is my name. You gave me yours. Now you have mine.”

“Oh,” he says, looking away. “Right. Sorry.”

“You’re a member of these...Blades?” she asks after a moment. 

He nods. “I didn’t know if the empire really knew anything  _ about _ us,” he admits. 

“Rumors. Myths. Stories to frighten young kits,” she says, shrugging. “I didn’t believe it existed. Is it not composed of elite Galra warriors as they say?”

“No, um, it is,” he says. “I’m - Galra, too. Half Galra. But I never knew my mom.”

She angles her head, studying him. “I did not expect Galra among the rebels,” she says. “Nor would I have expected half-breeds among the Blades.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, “you and everyone else.”

His meaning seems to go past her, because she doesn’t react, which he’s okay with; he hadn’t really meant to say the thought aloud to begin with. “Where are the other three?” she asks after a moment. “Your… colleagues.”

“Gathering the rest of the staff,” he says. “They won’t hurt anyone. At least, not unless they have to.”

“They had best be careful,” Izan says coolly. “I would not wish to be in their skins if the others fear for Vrani’s safety.”

* * *

The remainder of the crew are not difficult to locate: three are still clustered around the machinery, and three have taken up a perimeter nearby, all easily visible from the ridge as Kolivan approaches, Therlok close on his heels. “We will move between the guards,” Kolivan commands in an undertone. “If we reach the technicians, they will be at risk should the guards open fire; we will use this as our defense.”

“Understood,” Therlok replies. “I move on your order.”

Kolivan bows his head and braces himself to jump, watching the slow stride of the nearest guard towards their location. “Now,” he says as the guard passes beneath them, and leaps from the edge of the cliff.

He hits the ground, claws digging into the dust beneath him, and takes off running towards the technicians gathered around the mining equipment. Behind him one of the guards shouts, takes a clumsy shot well above him that strikes the canyon wall in the distance. Kolivan draws his blade and it sings awake in his hand as he moves. 

The technicians have turned towards him now, and two are reaching for their blasters. “Do not move,” he shouts as he nears them, raising the blade before him, ready to shield himself should they fire. 

The technicians freeze, staring at him, and he draws to a stop ten paces from them, eyes narrowed behind his mask.

“Our agent has the kit,” he tells them coldly. “We are taking her with us. You may come with us quietly, or you may come as our prisoners. There are no other options.”

A moment passes in total silence, before one of the technicians says, “Are you going to hurt her?”

“No harm will come to the kit,” he says. “We are not beasts who slaughter  _ children. _ ”

The three technicians share a look between them, and those armed drop their weapons to the ground.

Kolivan growls softly and turns over his shoulder to look at the guards. This must be a trap. Even civilian operators would not lay down arms so easily, without even an attempt to regain control of the situation. But the nearest guard has set aside his rifle and has both hands outstretched, claws turned down harmlessly, and when he scans the rest of the perimeter he sees the others doing the same. 

“You surrender?” he asks, looking over at the commander, who has outstretched their hands as well. “All of you?”

“Your agent has Vrani,” the commander says. “As long as she isn’t hurt, we will come quietly.”

“But if one hair on her body is harmed,” says one of the technicians, “not even your Voltron will protect you.”

Kolivan surveys them, considering this, and reflects on Keith’s suggestion that if the crew has hidden the kit from the empire, they might well go farther. It had seemed a naive suggestion born of inexperience with the depths of imperial loyalty. And yet, now it is he who looks the fool for doubting him. 

With a sigh, he demasks. 

“As leader of the Blade of Marmora,” he says, “you have my word: the child will not be harmed.”

“Then take us to her,” says the commander with a growl, the tips of their ears twitching back. “I want to see her before anyone goes anywhere with you.”

“Leave your weapons,” Kolivan orders. “Let us return to the base.”


	6. Chapter 6

Keith looks up when he hears footsteps, and Dazvar comes around the corner of the hall, pushing a guard along in front of him with the point of his blade. “Keith,” he says, and demasks to reveal a crooked smirk on his face. “I see your prisoner is awake.” 

“She’s not really a prisoner,” Keith says, frowning. “Izan, this is Dazvar.” 

“Oh, we are asking the prisoners their names?” Dazvar says, surprised. “I have not asked mine.” 

“Varok,” Izan says. “Blade, perhaps you would remove your weapon from my colleague’s back?” 

“You see?” Dazvar says. “You give her my name and she still calls me Blade. No manners.” 

Keith decides he doesn’t know enough about what counts as manners among either the Blades or the imperial Galra to comment on that, so instead he just says, “I think you can put your blade away, he’s not exactly struggling.” 

Dazvar shrugs and sheathes his blade. 

“Have you heard from the others?” Keith asks, as the new guard - Varok - slowly relaxes. 

“Not yet,” Dazvar says. “You think we should call them?” 

“Give them a few more minutes,” Keith says. “Uh - dobashes.” 

Dazvar sighs and leans back against the wall, surveying them, as Izan approaches Varok. “Are you alright?” she asks. 

“Fine, Izan,” he assures her. “Is Vrani safe?”

“Go see her yourself,” Izan tells him, jerking her head at the door of the control room. “It’ll keep her out of trouble.”

Varok nods and turns to the door. Keith hesitates, but steps aside to let him in. As it opens, he hears Vrani inside call, “Are we leaving now? How long do I gotta…” before the door slides closed again. 

“You already told the kit we are taking her?” Dazvar says. “Kolivan will not like that.”

“Well, he’s going to have to get over it,” Keith snaps. “She’s a kid, she’s already scared. I’m not gonna drag her away from her home without telling her what’s going on!”

Dazvar’s eyes go wide. “I apologize--”

Keith sighs, rubs his eyes with the heel of one hand. “No, I’m sorry,” he mutters, looking away. “You’re right, he’s gonna be mad, but I can handle that.”

“Dazvar,” Kolivan’s voice says over the comm, as if the mention of his name has summoned his response. “What is your status?”

“I have retrieved the remaining guard,” Dazvar says. “I am with Keith now.”

“Good,” Kolivan says. “We are returning with the rest of the crew.”

“Do you need support?” Dazvar asks, and laughs. “Two men is not many to bring back six prisoners.”

There’s a long pause before Kolivan says, with a sigh, “That won’t be necessary.”

“If you say so,” Dazvar replies, shrugging. “We will see you soon.”

Keith exhales slowly, leaning back against the wall himself. If Kolivan and Therlok are bringing back the others alone, they must have agreed to come willingly. That’s something. He’d really rather if Vrani didn’t have to see any of her family restrained or unconscious. 

“Keith tells us you have kept this kit a secret?” Dazvar says, looking over at Izan. “The empire does not know of her?”

“No one outside of this base has ever known she was alive,” she confirms. 

“You have been here - what, then, six decaphoebs?” he says. “How old is the child?”

“Nearly six, yes,” Izan replies, folding her arms. “We’ve been stationed here for close to eight.”

“Ah, so her father must also be here, yes?” Dazvar says. “I do not think the Empire allows its soldiers to be visited casually by mates who are not fighters.”

“Are all Blades so inquisitive?” she says coolly. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“No,” Dazvar says with a wicked grin. “Our organization is based on knowledge, there are others who are  _ much _ worse.”

Keith snorts. “Was that supposed to be some kind of interrogation? Here I thought you were just making friends.”

“Make no mistake,” Izan says, narrowing her eyes. “We will come with you if we must, but regardless of what Vrani thinks, we are  _ not _ your friends.”

“What, should she not make friends with other kits?” Dazvar says. 

“I’m not a kit!” Keith protests, annoyed. 

“How many decaphoebs are  _ you _ , again?” Dazvar asks. 

“I’m eighteen,” he says, which is probably not quite accurate, but close enough to count for this. “And even if that’s not grown up for  _ Galra-- _ ”

Izan laughs. “Kittens her age think anyone taller is grown up, just like kittens  _ your _ age think they are themselves. That doesn’t make either true.”

Keith glowers at both of them as Dazvar laughs, but he’s saved the trouble of finding a response by the sound of footsteps approaching in the corridor. Around the corner come the unarmored technicians, and then the armored guards, followed a few steps behind by Therlok and Kolivan. 

“Oh,” says Izan, her eyes narrowing as Kolivan approaches. “ _ You’re _ the leader.”

“I am,” Kolivan agrees, reaching for the hilt of his blade. “Keith tells me you are willing to come quietly. Is this true?”

“Do not threaten me,” she snaps. “I have kept the planetside base at bay for decaphoebs, knowing my life would be the price should they discover my deception. I am not afraid of you.”

Keith almost laughs as he sees Kolivan take a step back. “Your spirit is admirable,” he says. “The empire has made a mistake wasting it at this operation.”

“I’ve had no reason to set my ambitions higher,” she replies. “Unless you’re going to give me one?”

Keith stares at her, openmouthed, and looks around at the others as Kolivan studies her with great intensity. The tension in the air is so thick Keith feels like he can hardly breathe. “Are you implying,” Kolivan says slowly, “that you wish to  _ join _ us?”

“I wish to be with my daughter,” Izan says. “All other things are secondary. If you mean to take us all together, then yes, I will come quietly.”

“ _ All _ of you?” Kolivan repeats. “Our craft is not designed for such numbers. The kit and her family may come, no more.”

Several of the mining crew start to protest, but Izan’s raised voice silences them. “Everyone at this base is her family,” she snarls. “If you intend to separate us--”

“It is already more than our craft was built for to bring three of you,” Kolivan snaps back. “No more can be evacuated from the site. Which of these is the girl’s sire?”

“Ah, I--” one of the technicians begins.

“Shut  _ up, _ Martek,” Izan hisses. 

“The base is equipped with shuttles,” another says. “Why can’t we be taken elsewhere with those?”

“I cannot have you  _ follow _ us to the location of any of our bases,” Kolivan snaps. “Should any one of you decide their loyalty to the Empire outweighs that you have to this child--”

“That will  _ never _ happen,” Izan says. “Threnn is our commander, she has aided me in the deception since Vrani was born! Everyone here would die before letting  _ any _ harm come to that child--”

“The Blade of Marmora cannot afford to trust that on your word alone,” Kolivan says. “Keith, retrieve the child, and let us leave this place.”

“What if I fly the shuttle?” Keith says instead. “Then the crew doesn’t have to know where the base is.”

“Therlok,” Kolivan says. 

“Sir,” Therlok replies, reaching for his blade. 

“Do you remember,” Kolivan says, with a very heavy sigh, “that once I could give a command and receive no argument?” 

Dazvar chuckles at that. Keith shoots him a dirty look. “Look, if I fly the shuttle, everyone can come,” he points out. “That way we can stop arguing and actually  _ go.” _

“Fine,” Kolivan says. “Dazvar, Therlok, escort the crew to their quarters to retrieve their belongings. Keith, you will take the kit with you to the shuttle.” 

“Got it,” Keith says, nodding and opens the door to the control room to retrieve her. 


	7. Chapter 7

Varok is sitting on the floor, his helmet thrown aside, a long-suffering expression on his face as Vrani struggles to climb up his back. “Don’t move this time, okay?” she says, bracing her knee on his shoulder. “Last time you messed me up.”

“I’ll do my best,” Varok grumbles, and grimaces as she grabs onto his ears to support herself. As she pushes his face to the side to stand up, he sees Keith, and opens his mouth to say, “Vrani, wait--” before she leaps towards the machinery. 

Startled, she looks around, already in midair, and only half-catches the ledge she’s trying to grab hold of. “Careful!” Keith shouts, and she yelps as her claws skid off the metal. Before she slips any further, though, Varok is on his feet to catch her, hoisting her up to his chest with both arms. 

“I think it is time to be finished with this game, kitten,” he tells her, turning towards Keith. “Vrani has told me all about her new friend who plans to take her somewhere there are no soldiers. Of course, she tells us about many new friends, but most of them have been her own invention.”

“Is it time yet?” Vrani asks, squirming to get out of Varok’s grasp. “Are we going?”

“Yep, we’re going,” Keith says. “You wanna come down to the docking bay with me?”

Her face lights up, and she looks up at Varok with wide eyes. “Oh, can I? Can I?”

“The others are going down to their quarters to get anything they want to bring,” Keith tells him as he grabs his blade from the console and straps the sheath back onto his armor. “You should probably go do the same.”

“Understood,” Varok agrees. “You better tell Izan what’s happening, though, she won’t like it if she doesn’t know where Vrani is.” 

“Come on, kiddo,” Keith tells her as Varok sets her down. “You ever been on a shuttle before?” 

She shakes her head. “I’m not allowed. Avka says it’s too dangerous.” 

“What’s too dangerous?” Izan asks as they’re leaving the room. “What trouble are you getting into?”

“Keith said he’s gonna take me to the docking bay!” Vrani says cheerfully, and grabs onto his hand. 

“I’m coming with,” Izan says. “Stick close to me, and don’t touch anything.”

“Aw, no fun,” Vrani pouts. 

“You’re about to go into space,” Keith tells her. “Won’t that be exciting enough?”

“Well,” she says, considering that. “I guess you’re right.”

“If you behave, I’ll let you watch what I’m doing,” he tells her. “Maybe someday when you’re older, you can be a pilot too.”

“Will you teach me?” she asks, tugging on his arm. “Atka teaches me about the machines sometimes when he works. I can’t touch them but he says maybe when I’m older, will you show me how to fly a shuttle so I can do it when I’m older?” 

“Your father should not be teaching you how to run the mining machinery,” Izan says, glowering at the technician she’d called Martek. “And your new friend will _not_ teach you how to fly a cargo shuttle. Martek, I trust you to get Vrani’s things, and mine.” 

“Yes, dear,” Martek replies, nodding. “We’ll meet you there.” 

“Go,” Kolivan says. “I will finish the task you started in the control room.” 

“Thanks,” Keith replies, and heads for the lift, Vrani still clinging to his hand and Izan close on his heels. 

—

The hangar’s outer edge overlooks the canyon running alongside the base, two bay doors side by side at one end, a curved docking station for imperial cruisers at the other. Keith’s eyes dart around the room, taking in the stacked shipping crates and the four angled cargo shuttles with red lights along the sides lined up and waiting to be loaded. 

“Whoa,” Vrani says as he pulls her towards the shuttles, her claws digging into his palm through his glove. “It’s _big.”_

“A lot bigger than the rest of the building, huh?” he says, smiling faintly at her, though he can’t help thinking that as big as it is compared to the other sections of the base, this little loading area would fit easily twice over into the castle’s hangar. 

“Don’t wander off, Vrani,” Izan warns her gently. 

“Avkaaaaaa,” she complains. “I’m not _doing_ anything. And Keith’s holding onto me, anyways.” She pulls halfheartedly at his hand to demonstrate. 

“Any difference between the shuttles?” Keith asks, glancing back at Izan. “I don’t want to take one that’s damaged.”

Izan shrugs. “This third one has the newest engines. They’re fast, for a cargo shuttle, but very loud. The first is the quietest, but it’s slower, and shakes a little, and the second has a bad thruster so it can’t get up to full speed. The fourth lists left, but it goes the farthest on a single fuel cell.”

“How’s it compare to the others for speed?” Keith asks. “We might need that kind of distance.” 

“It’s about the same as this one,” she says, gesturing at the nearest shuttle. “Perhaps a little slower.” 

“Let’s get it ready for takeoff,” he says, continuing past the first shuttle towards the end of the loading bay. “I want to be ready as soon as the rest of your crew gets here with their things.”

“Aw,” Vrani complains, looking longingly over at the third shuttle as Keith pulls her past it. “I wanna take the fast one.” 

“Didn’t you say you’ve never left the base before?” Keith asks, laughing. “I think this one’s gonna be more than fast enough for you already.” 

“But,” she protests, digging in her heels and pulling back on his hand to stop him. “The other one’s _more_ fast.” 

“And you will not know the difference, Vrani,” Izan tells her firmly. “I thought this rebel was your new friend? You should stop arguing with him.” 

“Yes, Avka,” Vrani mutters sullenly, slinking after Keith again as he pulls her ahead and boards the shuttle at the end of the hangar. 


End file.
